“Oh, Ervyn! I am so glad you are dining with us.” Lynna approached him in the courtyard, inadvertently snubbing several guests as they waited for dinner to be announced.
She floated over the shining blue tiles, her simple black dress accenting her elegantly styled hair. Braids and coils wrapped around her head, like a dark crown.
Ervyn bowed in greeting. “I am pleased to dine with you, also.”
“It will be such a comfort to have a friendly face at the table.”
Raising an eyebrow, Ervyn asked, “Why? Will your family not be there?”
“Family is regrettably the enemy. I simply am not brave enough to face my father alone.”
“I do not understand. You are brave! Very brave. I have never seen you afraid.”
She took his arm whispering, “Then you do not see far enough. My father has changed. I no longer feel safe in his presence.”
She threw a smile on her face, and looking straight ahead, added quietly, “Say nothing more, we’re going into dinner now.”
Despite the princess’ glowing face as she greeted the traders and her father’s guests-mostly politicians- her arm quivered as she clung to Ervyn.
King Cestan led the miniature procession to the dining room adjacent to the castle’s courtyard.
Inside, the guests forsake the fresh green plants, and moonlight for a dingy dark hall.
The long wooden table, filled with somberly dressed diners, seemed to fill the stuffy room, until even the most comfortable man felt claustrophobic.
The torches, in years uncountable, had scorched the once white and cheery paint black. The table and chairs worn and scratched.
Despite the heat, and full table, the room retained a heavy silence. Elves whispered quietly in their native tongues, while the men attending respected their king’s silence. The men, most of them respected politicians, waited to see how their leader fared under this sudden tragedy.
If they felt he had lost his strength, they would withdraw support and find a new king.
As the dinner progressed, they simply took in the proceedings, a silent nod or mocking smile the only indication they cared one way or the other.
The king, seated at the head of the long table, scowled darker than his mourning clothes.
The meal, elegant arrangements of ripened berries and vegetables and aromatic breads, contained no meat since flesh was considered by the humans to be a crude dish following a death.
Throughout the feast, the king gulped his potent wine, until, before they had eaten half of the many courses, he began blustering drunkenly.
His red beard, wet from dribbled wine, flapped. The mild-tempered Elves-disgusted. The politicians-amused.
Ervyn, seated towards the king, his role as interpreter earning his high placement concentrated on his fruity meal. Until of course, the one sided conversation hiccoughed its way to the topic of Princess Lynna.
The ungracious mouth of the drunken king spilled his secret hopes over the entire company. “Lynna is old enough to be wed. Old enough to have brats! Squalling brats like her brother. I need an heir, Lynna!’
“Kaerf Amardet! He is a reliable man! He would follow my wishes.
“Kaerf!”
The skinny man raised his bulbous and watery blue eyes. Middle aged, with a thinning hairline, he appeared freakish sitting alongside the perfect forms of the elves.
While with a stooped back, his large skull contained cunning which had won him a seat at his king’s side.
“Kaerf, my friend. How would you like to bed my daughter?”
The loud scrape of two wooden chairs sliding across the stone floor broke the shocked silence. Lynna, twin spots of dark red on her high cheekbones, threw a murderous glare at her drunkard father before running from the room.
Ervyn jumped to his feet, spat on the floor, and followed the princess.
King Cestan, meanwhile, after hitting his most honored politician (and spy) over the head to knock the stupid smile off his drooping lips, lumbered to his feet, and gave chase.
The Elves merely frowned to one another. “Crazy Humans,” they agreed.
<*>
In the hall, Ervyn fought to remember where the princess’s rooms were.
A voice growled behind him. “Leave my daughter alone, Elf.”
Ervyn swerved. His slight frame no match against the bulk of the king. Frowning, he kept his mouth shut.
“You think you can stay in my home, in my land, and cavort with my daughter?”
“What?!”
“I know what you’re doing.” The king took a menacing step towards Ervyn.
“You’re going to help her take my throne. Those were false tears. She is a meddling witch!"
“Do not say that. She has sadness as much as you.”
“Now you’re sticking up for that worthless girl??”
“She’s not worthless!! The reason you think she is worthless is because you do not give her peace! You would not like it if someone ordered all things all day long. You would not like them to tell you to be perfect while drinking their self stupid?!”
“Are you calling me a drunk?” Cestan’s eyes flashed.
“Not exactly, I call you a worthless father. Even though you lost one of your children you are too selfish in grief to realize you have one left!”
Ervyn went too far. Cestan marched forward enraged. “How dare you speak to me about Megalem? You impudent, stupid, treacherous FOOL!” With that, Cestan smashed his fist into Ervyn’s jaw, sending him reeling into the wall behind him.
Cestan stormed out from the hallway, slamming the door to the hall, causing a portrait of his late wife to fall from the wall.
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